


Why do i smell pancakes?

by languageismymistress



Series: Why can't i have both? [3]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pancakes fix everything, Sebastian is essentially a cat, and talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:53:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2352353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/languageismymistress/pseuds/languageismymistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pancakes, kissing and chatter, thats how they got together, at least, that is what she will tell her family</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why do i smell pancakes?

With the light hitting her face and the alarm beeping next to her, she tried to force herself up into a sitting position, slightly grateful that she wasn’t in the hangover hell that she was excepting herself to be in. Glancing over at the clock, she wanted to fall back into bed at the sight of 8:00 staring back at her. 

Looking around her room, she tilted her head at the sight of Sebastian dozing next to her, in her state of mind, she had a couple of questions, none of which could help with the smell that was floating into the room. Knowing that her curiosity was going to win over her comfortableness, she wrapped a blanket around her, laughing at the groan coming from the human cat that curled himself around her pillow. Idiot. 

Sighing to herself, she pushed her body into a somewhat standing position, only half the room was crooked as she stared at the door, trying to figure out how to move her feet over towards it. Shuffling over, she hoped that the floor was clear enough so that she would have to test gravity any time soon, grinning as she found the door. Closing it softly behind her, she tiptoed into the kitchen, listening to the music coming out of the radio quietly, holding back a laugh at Chris dancing in front of her stove in his boxers, wife beater and socks. Leaning against her kitchen island, she giggled at the little hip wiggle he did in time to the music, turning around to face her, spatula in hand as microphone.

“You took the words right out of my mouth, oh, it must have been while you were kissing me.” He winked over at her, pouring some of the batter into the frypan.

“I haven’t kissed you yet,” she mumbled, mostly to herself.

“Yet being the operative word in that sentence.” He leaned back against the bench opposite to her, keeping an eye on the pancakes, flipping when needed.

“Chris,” She trailed off, not knowing what it was she wanted to say, or needed to say.

“Hey, none of that,” She listened to him flick something on the stove, moving over to stand in front of her, cupping her neck, running his thumbs over her cheek.

“I’ll get over it, I promise,” She looked around the kitchen, trying her hardest not to meet his eyes.

“And if we don’t want you too?” He stepped closer, pushing her up onto the island, standing between her legs.

“What?” She tilted her head at him.

“Basha and I had a chat before we came here, we’re both interested in you and each other, we just wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with the idea before we pushed anything onto you,” He ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, resting them on her hips

“But, wait, what?” She shook her head, maybe she was more hungover then she first thought.

“We want you, you want us, we hope, let’s try,” He rested his forehead against hers.

“But,” She tried to find an out, from the back of her mind the voices of previous relationships haunted her.

“We’re not him, we’re not going to leave you.” He brushed her fringe out of her eyes.

“Promise?” She felt smaller then she usually did next to him, the sun beaming through the window, making him seem more radiant then how he was in her mind. Seriously?

“Yeah.” He brushed his lips over hers, melding their mouths together.

Sighing at the little pressure, she hummed at the small laughter that vibrated through his chest, smiling as she cupped his neck, tilting his head to try to get a better angle. Focusing her attention on the words Chris was trying to embed through their mouths, she jumped at the cough coming from behind them, staring over a smug looking Sebastian. Biting down on her bottom lip, she buried her face in Chris’s neck, hiding the blush that was definitely on her cheeks.

“Don’t let me interrupt, I just smelled the pancakes,” she heard Sebastian say as he moved over towards them.

“Shush,”she mumbled into Chris’s neck, laughing at the slight shiver that ripped through him.

“Sensitive?” She stared up at him.

“You’ll have to find out.” He pulled her closer.

“Challenge accepted.” Sebastian winked over Chris’s shoulder, leaning up to bite down on the junction between his neck and shoulder.

Shaking her head at the two idiots, her idiots, she pushed the both of them away from her, moving off of the bench and over to the stove, checking up on the pancakes that were cooked the batter that was dropping onto the stove next to her.

“How, I mean, what, I just, nope,” She stared up at the batter on the ceiling, shaking her head at the mess that she was definitely making Chris clean up.

“This is why you are never allowed into my kitchen,” She moved the hopefully cooked pancakes onto her dining table, smiling at the plate and cutlery and glasses that were already set up.

“Such domestic, very good.” Chris shuffled himself and Sebastian over to the table.

“We still need to figure shit out.” She sat down on her chair, watching the other two just fall into place around her.

“Do we really though?” Sebastian grabbed the maple syrup, adding bacon to his plate.

“I….” She trailed off, still trying to reel in what was happening in front of her.

“Baby steps.” Chris stared over at her.

“Kay,” She shrugged, grabbing the maple syrup on the table, drowning her pancakes in it.

“Dinner? Seven, I can book?” Chris looked over at Sebastian.

“Thank god you said book,” She placed her hand over her heart, laughing at the kick aimed at her.

“Flo?” Sebastian glanced at her, making sure she was okay with this.

“Let’s try,” She nodded, digging into her, what she was hoping would be edible, pancakes.


End file.
